Poem: Halloween at Dawn | Poetry | Hudson Valley | Chronogram Magazine

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Poem: Halloween at Dawn

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Halloween at Dawn

You sat outside
On a well-worn couch
Placed on a splintered deck
Looking for answers in the trees
Wet with the night air
Your touch made its way
Through windows and plaster walls
To the lobes of my ears.
And you ran yourself slowly
Along my neck
As you always do
Leaving a trail of molecules
Set on fire
Swarming porous skin
Soaked with sweat like morning dew
I can still smell the autumn cigarettes
Clinging to my clothes
Like the last parcels of fabric
Hugging the metal frame of a couch
That's seen children grow old.
I cannot recall the fall leaves' colors
Quite as clearly as I can remember
Frantically pulling apart your costume
Threads in my palms
As if you were hiding the sunlight from us all.

—John Sullivan

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